Other songs inspired by Meiwes' story include "The Wüstenfeld Man Eater" by American death/thrash metal band Macabre, "Eaten" by Swedish death metal band Bloodbath,[9] as well as "Cannibal Anthem" by German dark electro project :wumpscut:.

Rock artist Marilyn Manson has identified Meiwes as inspirational in the titling of his album, Eat Me, Drink Me.
Manson explained in an article what this story meant to him: "Although
I can't relate to the relationship those two had, I found the story
very compelling in a romantic way. I think a lot of people wouldn’t
look at it as romantic, but it was to them in some sick way, and it is
to me in some sick way, too."[10]

"Last year, while spending time in the Soca, I noticed none of the sticks ( tree branches that had fallen in the river) had the capacity to float, they went with the current of the river but at the bottom.

Then one day a stick came floating down stream floating, I got so excited I had to have it. So sure enough, I manged to get it and I brought it back to the UK and I still have it today. My intention was to take it back and release it back into the wild to see if it still floats in the Soca.

It was the only stick in Slovenia that seemed to float.

With regard to the tickets and sticks, I would assume they mean anything that could be use as a weapon, baseball bats etc etc"

[Monty standing in the men's bathroom, talking to himself in a mirror with a "FUCK YOU" written on it]
Monty Brogan:Well, fuck you, too. Fuck me, fuck you, fuck this whole city and
everyone in it. Fuck the panhandlers, grubbing for money, and smiling
at me behind my back. Fuck the squeegee men dirtying up the clean
windshield of my car. Get a fucking job! Fuck the Sikhs and the
Pakistanis bombing down the avenues in decrepit cabs, curry steaming
out their pores, stinking up my day. Terrorists in fucking training.
SLOW THE FUCK DOWN! Fuck the Chelsea boys with their waxed chests and
pumped up biceps. Going down on each other in my parks and on my piers,
jingling their dicks on my Channel 35. Fuck the Korean grocers with
their pyramids of overpriced fruit and their tulips and roses wrapped
in plastic. Ten years in the country, still no speaky English? Fuck the
Russians in Brighton Beach. Mobster thugs sitting in cafés, sipping tea
in little glasses, sugar cubes between their teeth. Wheelin' and
dealin' and schemin'. Go back where you fucking came from! Fuck the
black-hatted Chassidim, strolling up and down 47th street in their
dirty gabardine with their dandruff. Selling South African apartheid
diamonds! Fuck the Wall Street brokers. Self-styled masters of the
universe. Michael Douglas, Gordon Gekko wannabe mother fuckers,
figuring out new ways to rob hard working people blind. Send those
Enron assholes to jail for FUCKING LIFE! You think Bush and Cheney
didn't know about that shit? Give me a fucking break! Tyco! Worldcom!
Fuck the Puerto Ricans. 20 to a car, swelling up the welfare rolls,
worst fuckin' parade in the city. And don't even get me started on the
Dom-in-i-cans, 'cause they make the Puerto Ricans look good. Fuck the
Bensonhurst Italians with their pomaded hair, their nylon warm-up
suits, their St. Anthony medallions, swinging their, Jason Giambi,
Louisville slugger, baseball bats, trying to audition for the Sopranos.
Fuck the Upper East Side wives with their Hermes scarves and their
fifty-dollar Balducci artichokes. Overfed faces getting pulled and
lifted and stretched, all taut and shiny. You're not fooling anybody,
sweetheart! Fuck the uptown brothers. They never pass the ball, they
don't want to play defense, they take five steps on every lay-up to the
hoop. And then they want to turn around and blame everything on the
white man. Slavery ended one hundred and thirty seven years ago. Move
the fuck on! Fuck the corrupt cops with their anus violating plungers
and their 41 shots, standing behind a blue wall of silence. You betray
our trust! Fuck the priests who put their hands down some innocent
child's pants. Fuck the church that protects them, delivering us into
evil. And while you're at it, fuck JC! He got off easy! A day on the
cross, a weekend in hell, and all the hallelujahs of the legioned
angels for eternity! Try seven years in fuckin' Otisville, J! Fuck
Osama Bin Laden, Al Qaeda, and backward-ass, cave-dwelling,
fundamentalist assholes everywhere. On the names of innocent thousands
murdered, I pray you spend the rest of eternity with your seventy-two
whores roasting in a jet-fuel fire in hell. You towel headed camel
jockeys can kiss my royal Irish ass! Fuck Jacob Elinsky, whining
malcontent. Fuck Francis Xavier Slaughtery my best friend, judging me
while he stares at my girlfriend's ass. Fuck Naturelle Riviera, I gave
her my trust and she stabbed me in the back, sold me up the river,
fucking bitch. Fuck my father with his endless grief, standing behind
that bar sipping on club sodas, selling whisky to firemen, cheering the
Bronx bombers. Fuck this whole city and everyone in it. From the
row-houses of Astoria to the penthouses on Park Avenue, from the
projects in the Bronx to the lofts in Soho. From the tenements in
Alphabet City to the brownstones in Park slope to the split-levels in
Staten Island. Let an earthquake crumble it, let the fires rage, let it
burn to fucking ash and then let the waters rise and submerge this
whole rat-infested place.
[pause]
Monty Brogan:No. No, fuck you, Montgomery Brogan. You had it all, and you threw it away, you dumb fuck!

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